Adopting Ilana

Plucked from a bleak Russian orphanage, one Jewish family welcomes their new daughter home.

I am racing across the frozen Russian tundra at 75 miles an hour, closer to the North Pole than to any major city. Yura, my Russian driver, is taking me ever closer to Ilana, a two-year-old resident of Apatity's Regional Specialized Baby Home. At this moment, Ilana is not yet aware that in just a few hours, her life – and ours – will change forever.

Although nearly 9 a.m., the Arctic January sky is still as dark as midnight. It is eerily quiet. And with Yura focused on navigating the difficult terrain, and my wife, Gayle, back in Murmansk awaiting our return, I am left mostly with my own thoughts.

Am I worthy to be this child's father? Will I be the role model she needs me to be? Will I be deserving of her trust, her love? Will Judaism be as compelling for her as it is for me? If I truly believe that Judaism is a great gift, then do I have the knowledge, the passion, the commitment to pass along that gift to her?

The questions are not unfamiliar. I began to ask them five years ago, when we adopted our son Micah from Murmansk, a mere 100 miles away from the place that has been home to Ilana – until today.

And Micah has answered them in his own way. Micah is the child who came home each day from his Jewish preschool bursting with excitement, who asked to go to minyan with me, and asked question after question about everything he saw there. Micah is the child who could not get enough of Shalom Sesame videos, who at three began to ask if he could visit Israel the way some kids clamor for Disneyworld, and who, during his visit to the Western Wall at 4½, asked God to bring peace to Jerusalem. And Micah is now the child who asks on a monthly basis when we are moving to Israel, who wants to know about Rashi and the Rambam, and who has an overwhelming passion for all things Jewish.

It is because of our own Jewish growth that we first made the decision for our children to undergo an Orthodox conversion. But it is Micah who has convinced us of the absolute truth of the Jewish belief that there are some souls that stood at Sinai, even though they may not have been born into Jewish families. Five years later, it is crystal clear to me why Micah is not growing up in Murmansk, but in our family.

A couple of hours have passed, and we have arrived in Apatity, a grim collection of Soviet-era block apartments that persists for miles. I sit in the orphanage director's office, awaiting the completion of official paperwork. Ilana is confused and upset. She seems to know that something momentous is happening. The orphanage director, in an effort to distract her, takes a Santa figure from her shelf. Although she tries every conceivable way to interest Ilana in the Santa, Ilana just eyes it suspiciously and will have nothing to do with it. The Jewish parent in me silently chuckles.

Is it destiny, or blind chance that she will grow up as an American Jewish child, rather than in a Russian orphanage?

With the paperwork completed, I pick up Ilana and carry her through the orphanage doorway to her new family, her new country, her new life. Is it really destiny, or is it blind chance, I wonder, that she will grow up as an American Jewish child and not in a Russian orphanage? After five years with Micah, chance just no longer seems like a viable option. As we pass over that threshold, it feels like the exact moment in April, 2000 when I carried Micah through a very similar doorway away from Murmansk's Specialized Baby Home.

Meanwhile, Gayle is not waiting alone in Murmansk. Micah is with her. After months of deliberating, we decided that, although Micah is not yet six, the chance for him to see his birth city was too good to pass up. The previous day, Micah had gone back through the doorway of the Murmansk Specialized Baby Home, or as he describes it, "my old school where I used to live." He seemed uncharacteristically calm as he presented flowers to the Baby Home's director, a woman who had been very much a part of his first 13 months of life, but whom he no longer remembered.

But the orphanage was almost exactly as Gayle and I remembered it from five years before. Dedicated, but tired and overworked caretakers trying to attend to over a dozen babies at a time. Children rocking themselves back and forth just to feel some sense of stimulation in the absence of a loving parent's arms. Stark steel cribs crowded together in a room where one-year-olds fell asleep without a mother's goodnight kiss. The same small, expectant eyes looking longingly at us from every corner. The same feeling of sadness as we turn away, knowing that most of them will know no other childhood than this.

Micah strode confidently through those orphanage hallways, almost like a movie star returning to the applause of his admiring fans. And as if on a movie set, doors seemed to open from everywhere as we walked by. Orphanage workers crowded around, gaping at the tall athletic boy whom they last saw when he could barely walk.

It was clear to me that everyone there saw Micah as an unequivocally Russian boy. And to be fair, on the outside, his features may have made it easy for them to see him in that role. But they could not know that on the inside, this child is thoroughly Jewish. That the change over the past five years has not been merely physical growth, but spiritual metamorphosis.

The spring after Ilana was born, and almost two years before we knew she existed, Gayle had had a dream. It was one of those unusually clear dreams, where there is no doubt about what the dreamer has experienced. Gayle woke up in the middle of the night with a palpable vision of a little girl in Russia crying out "Mama!" and desperately wanting Gayle to come to her.

But now, having so recently been wrenched from her only familiar surroundings, Ilana is desperately insecure and wails whenever Gayle tries to pick her up. Finally, Gayle just takes her in her arms and holds her tight. Eventually the crying slows, and then stops. Eventually, it becomes clear that a mother is holding her daughter, and her daughter feels secure in her new mother's arms. It is no longer a dream.

Just a couple of days later, we are 1,200 miles to the south in Moscow, completing our final paperwork. Micah is making a smooth adjustment from only child to older brother, while Ilana is still taking her first steps in an environment so radically different from anything she has ever known. But through her rapid progress, we are able to glimpse her personal strength, and know how well suited her new name is to her. Ilana, after all, means "oak" in Hebrew.

Friday afternoon rolls in, and we enter Shabbat with a Jewish family at the U.S. Embassy Compound. Saturday morning we go to services at a Moscow synagogue, followed by lunch with the Rabbi's family.

While this Shabbat is distinctively Russian, it is also so clearly Shabbat as we know it. The synagogue service is remarkably similar to the one in Springfield, and Micah is clearly comfortable here. At the Shabbat lunch table sit Jews from California, Massachusetts, Israel, and several cities across Russia. Simultaneous conversations in four languages can be heard. Yet somehow, after ten days of travel in a foreign country, we now feel connected.

Adoption makes us appreciate the precious gift of being Jewish.

And I realize that we are not simply bringing up two children as Jews. Just as the Biblical Ruth described her conversion millennia ago, their souls are now entwined with the God of Israel and with the people of Israel. They, and we, are part of something indescribably greater than ourselves.

Being Jewish is a precious gift, one we too often take for granted. Yet the process of adoption and conversion makes taking it for granted nearly impossible, and focuses us instead on the immeasurable beauty of our tradition. Just as a birth is miraculous, it is as miraculous that a child from halfway around the world should come to be part of a Jewish family in Western Massachusetts. The Talmud implicitly recognizes this miracle, describing the person who raises a child born to another "as if he had actually brought him into the world physically."

But we must choose. We must choose not only whether or not to see it as a miracle, but also what we will do with the miracle once we see it.

One week later, we have returned and are ready for our first Shabbat together in Springfield. In Judaism, the soul is considered as a light, a Divine spark. On Shabbat, it is customary to light a candle for each child in addition to the traditional two. Ever since Micah became part of our family, we have lit three candles. This Shabbat, we add a fourth. Ilana is home, and that light is burning brightly.

Adoption Resources and Information

Knowing where to start can often be bewildering. The best place to begin is with people who have already adopted. Speak to friends, relatives, synagogue members, co-workers, or anyone who has adopted or knows someone who has adopted. They are in the best position to answer your questions, speak from personal experience, and point you to additional resources. If you do not know any adoptive families, ask your Rabbi or local Jewish Family Service for recommendations.

For those seeking domestic and international adoption assistance, information about adoption, and support groups, the following links may be helpful:

The Association of Jewish Family & Children's Agencies, http://www.ajfca.org, offers a comprehensive list of Jewish Family Service agencies throughout the United States and Canada offering adoption services.

The Jewish Children's Adoption Network, the only Jewish adoption exchange in the Western Hemisphere, seeks to find appropriate adoptive homes for up to 100 children each year.

The opinions expressed in the comment section are the personal views of the commenters. Comments are moderated, so please keep it civil.

Visitor Comments: 12

(12)
yehuda,
March 22, 2009 11:33 AM

what is love

Dear Harold and Gayle
I never heared the whole story from you.You did the greates mitzva to bring Micah and Ilana and show them what is love.I wish you hatlacah in all what you do
miss you
Yehuda

(11)
chaya,
July 24, 2008 6:39 AM

Reminded me of how I felt

I cried when I read the article--it reminded me of our adoption years ago. Though I have many many doubts and very difficult days, I will keep these thoughts in mind. Thank-you Harold

(10)
Devorah,
December 18, 2006 3:40 AM

Astonishingly beautiful

To Harold and Gayle, Micah and Ilana I wish you happiness and godliness and thank you for the beautiful story of Ilana joining your family and our larger family of Jewish neighbours, I live in Australia in a small town, with just enough Jewish people to have a very small synagogue and yeshiva, we look to our larger communities for opinions and strength sometimes as we are such a small and allinated group, but we gain so much from stories such as yours, thank you.

(9)
Yoshe,
September 17, 2005 12:00 AM

A story worth sharing many times.

Thank you Harold. The tears are still wet on my face. May HaShem continue to bless you and your family.

(8)
Anonymous,
August 24, 2005 12:00 AM

It touched a special part inside me; it described my personal feelings about Judiasm in a beautiful way.

(7)
Anne,
August 22, 2005 12:00 AM

Siberian Adoption

Dear Harold,

The outer edges of the Russian Empire have been home to Subbotniki for more than 300 years. Just like the Bnei Anuousim they tried to get away from the Central Government to avoid persecution. In the 17th Century groups of Russian peasants became convinced that Judaism was the true way and converted. The same term is also used for Seventh Day Adventists and Volunteers for Lenin.

Stalin hated the Jewish Subbotniki more than he hated born Jews. He reasoned that born Jews had no choice in the matter but the Subboniki had to be persecuted more because they chose Judaism freely. They withstood persecution for more than 300 years with Jewish fortitude and perserverance.

Michael Freund (Arutz Sheva) is involved with trying to bring a few thousand Subbotniki to Israel. In the 1920's some groups managed to reach Israel and were successfully absorbed by the Yishuv.

Your children may indeed have Jewish souls and are where they belong.

Anne

(6)
Anne Schwartz,
August 22, 2005 12:00 AM

reply to adoptive parents' experience

Adopting Ilana fulfills the belief "to save on human being is as if one saved the entire world." The Jewish family went beyond and saved 2 children. Little Micah's total embrace of Judaism was deeply touching and beautiful. May ha-Shem protect Israel from implacable enemies and may true peace prevail.
Grandma Anne

(5)
Marni Rosen,
August 22, 2005 12:00 AM

Ilana

I enjoyed your story very much. But the name Ilana means a young tree or sapling, Alona means an oak. Whatever the name, enjoy your daughter! best wishes, Marni

(4)
rivka,
August 21, 2005 12:00 AM

moving and inspiring

Mazel tov on your new daughter and may you see much nachas from both your children. The opportunity to bring life into this world is a gift from Hashem and it can occur in many different ways.

(3)
Chana Levi,
August 21, 2005 12:00 AM

Mazal tov!

Thanks for an inspiring, informative article on international adoption. Though we have four grown children and a foster daughter B"H, my husband and I have always wanted to adopt. We've been researching for the past several months and the process seemed overwhelming. I'd almost given up the idea - till I read your wonderful article just now. What hashgacha pratis - thanks so much.
Mazal tov on the arrival of your lovely daughter, may she and your son always bring you lots of nachas.

(2)
Bela Fiuza,
August 21, 2005 12:00 AM

Adopting Ilana

I just loved, the story about Ilana. We adopted from Russia 2 months ago, also.A two years old girl. She is adorable.
Thanks
Bela

(1)
sjhepner,
August 21, 2005 12:00 AM

This is lovely..

What a lovely story.. the children are well cared for, and enamoured with Judaism.. I hope thAt it continues beyond childhood and into adulthood...I didnt know that you can light a c candle for each child on Shabbat/thanks

I always loved the story of Jonah and the whale. Why do we read it during the afternoon service of Yom Kippur?

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

Let's recap the story: God tells Jonah to go to Ninveh and to prophesy that in 40 days, God will destroy the city. Instead, Jonah goes to Jaffa, boards a ship, and sails for Tarshish. A great storm arises. Frightened, Jonah goes to sleep in the ship's hold. The sailors somehow recognize that Jonah is responsible for the storm. They throw him overboard, and the sea becomes calm.

A great fish swallows Jonah. Then three days later, God commands the fish to spit Jonah back out upon dry land. God tells Jonah, "Let's try it again. Go to Ninveh and tell them in 40 days I will destroy the city."

The story is a metaphor for our struggle for clarity. Jonah is the soul. The soul is assigned to sanctify the world, and draw it close to God. But we are seduced by the world's beauty. (Jaffa in Hebrew means "beauty.") The ship is the body, the sea is the world, and the storm is life's pains and troubles. God hopes confrontation with mortality will inspire us to examine our lives. But Jonah's is the more common response - we go to sleep (have a beer, turn on the television). The sailors throw Jonah overboard - this is death. The fish that swallows Jonah is the grave. Jonah is spat back upon the land - reincarnation. And the Almighty tells us to try again. "Go sanctify the world and bring it close to God."

Each of us is born with an opportunity and a challenge. We each have unique gifts to offer the world and unique challenges to perfect ourselves. If we leave the task unfinished the first time, we get a second chance. Jonah teaches us that repentance can reverse a harsh decree. If the residents of Ninveh had the ability to correct their mistakes and do teshuva, how much more so do we have the ability to correct our former mistakes and do teshuva.

(source: "The Bible for the Clueless But Curious," by Rabbi Nachum Braverman)

In 1948, Egypt launched a large-scale offensive against the Negev region of Israel. This was part of the War of Independence, an attack by five Arab armies designed to "drive the Jews into the sea." Though the Jews were under-armed, untrained, and few in number, through ingenuity and perseverance they staved off the attacks and secured the borders. Yet the price was high -- Israel lost 6,373 of its people, a full one percent of the Jewish population of Israel at the time.

And what does teshuvah consist of? [Repentance to the degree] that the One Who knows all that is hidden will testify that he will never again repeat this sin(Maimonides, Laws of Teshuvah 2:2).

"How can this be?" ask the commentaries. "Inasmuch as man always has free choice to do good or evil, to sin or not to sin, how can God testify that a person will never repeat a particular sin? Is this not a repudiation of one's free will?"

The answer to this came to me at a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous, at which the speaker, a man who had been sober for twenty-one years, said, "The man I was drank. The man I was will drink again. But now I am a different man."

A sin does not occur in a vacuum. A person who is devout does not abruptly decide to eat treifah. A sin occurs when a person is in such a state that a particular act is not anathema to him.

Consequently, repentance is not complete if one merely regrets having done wrong. One must ask, "How did this sin ever come about? In what kind of a state was I that permitted me to commit this sin?"

True repentance thus consists of changing one's character to the point where, as the person is now, one can no longer even consider doing the forbidden act. Of course, the person's character may deteriorate - and if it does, he may sin again.

God does not testify that the person will never repeat the sin, but rather that his degree of repentance and correction of his character defects are such that, as long as he maintains his new status, he will not commit that sin.

Today I shall...

try to understand how I came to do those things that I regret having done, and bring myself to a state where such acts will be alien to me.

With stories and insights,
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